Page 25 of A Hunter Born
Kane shook his head hard in an attempt to clear it and stumbled, barely managing to catch himself before he hit the floor. Groaning, he extended his hand, his voice yet weak as he said, “Hand me my clothes, would you? And fill me in. Are those gunshots I hear?”
Morgan did her best to bring him as up to date as she could while she helped him dress and then admitted, “I don’t even know where to start looking for Jamie.”
“We’ll search the house,” Kane offered. “She has to be here somewhere.”
As the last word left his mouth, a loud shout from outside could be heard. Jourdain bellowing, “Face me, Rodolfo, you coward!” and Morgan was reminded of what the leader of the Order had told her about what Rodolfo did with vampires who displease him. “The greenhouse,” Morgan blurted, levering herself under Kane’s arms to support him as they walked. “There’s one somewhere on the property. It’s where he puts the Turned vampires that piss him off.”
Kane nodded, using his free hand to brace against the wall as they lurched awkwardly into the hallway. “I’ve seen it. I didn’t go inside but I saw it the other day when I was scoping things out.”
Morgan noted his voice sounded stronger and by the time they descended the stairs, he wasn’t leaning quite so heavily on her. Good. Because there was every possibility that they were going to need to fight their way out of here.
Chapter Nineteen
Travis had told Morgan he’d wait, be her back up when and if she needed it, but he’d never promised to do so patiently. His hand continually tapping out a beat on his thigh, he must have checked his phone at least fifty times by now.
He’d parked his truck a block away to ensure Rodolfo’s guards wouldn’t catch sight of him lurking, but he still managed to hear the commotion once it started. Checking his phone again and still not seeing anything from Morgan, Travis let out a frustrated, “Fuck it,” and got out of the truck to do a subtle walk-by to see if he could figure out what was happening.
Yup. Nothing to see here. Just taking a stroll at,checking the time on his phone he mentally continued,three-fifteen in the morning.
But as he drew closer to Rodolfo’s villa and the shouts became louder, he took in the mass of bent metal that had once been the front gate as well as the bloodied bodies littering the ground. “Holy shit,” he breathed, picking up the pace until he was running.
Gunfire rang out, a loud crack that had Travis ducking into a crouching run, and then a barrage of bullets. “Morgan!” he bellowed, his eyes instantly shifting from human into those of his other form as he scanned the bodies, looking for a familiar shape.
The leader of the Order of Witches, Destin Jourdain was standing in the middle of the carnage, his face a mask of lethal fury, his lips moving in a quiet chant as vampires fell screaming around him and bullets dropped harmlessly at his feet.
Travis was completely transfixed by the level of power on display when suddenly Jourdain bellowed, “Face me, Rodolfo, you coward!”
The Born appeared in a blur of preternatural speed attempting to outmaneuver Jourdain only to be halted a mere handful of feet from his goal. Jourdain flicked his wrist, and Rodolfo’s feet left the ground. The vampire hung suspended in the air, struggling to move as blood began dripping from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Ho-Ly-Shit.”
Ducking into the bushes that lined the fence so as not to be mistaken by Jourdain for one of Rodolfo’s men and become a recipient of the witch’s wrath, Travis pulled out his phone and called Morgan, chanting, “Come on, come on, come on, pickup,” the entire time it rang without answer.
Nearly desperate with worry, his brain managing to picture seemingly every possible worst-case scenario in a matter of seconds, the call finally connected, the sound of shouts and gunfire now in stereo as Morgan said without preamble, “I’m fine. I found Kane. We’re still looking for Jamie. Are you all right? You sound like you’re on the property.”
“I’m good,” he said on a sigh of relief. “It’s a fucking warzone out here. Do you need my help searching?”
There was a pause as she considered his offer before she said, “We’re about to check the greenhouse. Can you get into the villa?”
“No problem. By the looks of it, everyone is out here. The place should be empty.”
“Thank you. And Travis? Be careful.”
“You too. See you soon.”
Disconnecting the call, Travis resumed his running crouch and keeping to the shadows, sprinted for the villa. He’d search for Jamie as he’d promised, notify Morgan immediately if he found her, but once that was done he’d also be taking a little detour. He may never get this opportunity again.
∞∞∞
The greenhouse was a large structure, though typical in design, but the smell when they walked in held nothing of growing life. Mingled with the overpowering fake floral scent of air fresheners and the surprising undertone of coffee grounds was the smell of putrid desiccation, rotting flesh, a miasma of death that had Morgan reeling back in distaste and Kane bending over gagging.
“Jesus Christ,” Kane groaned. “When I saw how heavily guarded this place was, I assumed Rodolfo was growing weed or had a meth lab or something. This is fucking nasty.”
Numerous large wooden crates were stacked against one glass wall with smaller over-turned crates scattered haphazardly across the floor and under long banquet-style folding tables. Moving toward the larger crates, Morgan watched as Kane pried it open with his bare hands. The display of strength had her smiling. “You’re feeling better, I see,” she teased.
Kane threw her a grin over his shoulder before grabbing handfuls of straw out of the crate to reveal a shitload of automatic weapons. “Your cop is going to love this.”
Yes, he was. Especially if all of these crates held more of the same.
